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Murray Posh. Meet Miss Lilian Posh. Am sent for by Mr. Hardfur Huttle. Important. July 1. I find, on looking over my diary, nothing of any consequence has taken place during the last month. To-day we lose Lupin, who has taken furnished apartments at Bayswater, near his friends, Mr. and Mrs. Murray Posh, at two guineas a week. I think this is most extravagant of him, as it is half his salary.
"I thought of that also," he said, "and yesterday I went to St. Bertha Street, Bayswater, to see her. But I found that she had moved, and no one knew where she was. I expect, having received her price for the conspiracy, she has left London. However, I put an advertisement in the papers, saying if she called on me here she would hear of something to her advantage.
Was she paying court to him merely to annoy her husband? Had her enthusiasm about the shooting of red-deer been prompted by a wish to attract a certain pair of eyes at the other side of the table? Lord Arthur began to sneer at himself for having been duped. He ought to have known. Women were as much women in a Hebridean island as in Bayswater.
The Carters had now been married about a year; they lived in Bayswater, and saw much of a certain world which imitates on a lower plane the amusements and affectations of society proper.
Turn to the left and keep on until you reach Marble Arch. You'll get a 'bus there, if you're lucky. If you're too late, you'll have to walk it. Go down Park Lane and ask again. Make for Victoria!" "Thanks," said John. He walked along the Bayswater Road, singing in his heart, and after a while, finding that the street was almost empty, he began to sing aloud.
'Was Schmidt at all known to the police? 'We hope so, said Michael. 'We have every ground to think so. Mark the neighbourhood Bayswater! Doesn't Bayswater occur to you as very suggestive? For perhaps the sixth time during this remarkable interview, Gideon wondered if he were not becoming light-headed.
"Baxter & Co., General Drapers, Bayswater," she read out, throwing down the cloak contemptuously. "I don't go to a London suburb for my frocks; I get them in Paris." "Then you are sure this cloak isn't yours?" asked Lucian, much perplexed. "No! I tell you it isn't! Go and ask Baxter & Co. if I bought it. I'll go with you, if you like; or better still," cried Mrs.
And then words and names shone out of the confusion of letters that spun and whirled, like motes in the sunshine, before his dazzled eyes. "Valentine Hawkehurst, bachelor, author, Carlyle Terrace, Edgware Road, son of Arthur Hawkehurst, journalist; Charlotte Halliday, spinster, of the Lawn, Bayswater, daughter of Thomas Halliday, farmer." He read no more.
A week later he came to see me and told me he was "suited," committed to some highly respectable people they were something quite immense in the City who lived on the Bayswater side of the Park. "I daresay it will be rather poor, sir," he admitted; "but I've seen the fireworks, haven't I, sir? it can't be fireworks EVERY night. After Mansfield Street there ain't much choice."
But Bayswater would not be the abode of peace it is had it not been for such. Have we not placed sexual love on a pedestal higher than it deserves? It is a noble passion, but it is not the noblest. There is a wider love by the side of which it is but as the lamp illumining the cottage, to the moonlight bathing the hills and valleys. There were two women once.
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